


Wild Honey

by pearypie



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: 1930s, Banter, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Romance, Snark, WWII, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 10:19:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7797997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearypie/pseuds/pearypie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles Grey is an infuriating, arrogant, cocky son of a bitch. Lizzy doesn't understand why he's intent on harassing her until the end of time but sometimes, he does make her smile and more often than not, she's beginning to enjoy his presence in her life. </p><p>Charles Grey and Elizabeth Midford. August 17th, 1939.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild Honey

_But I shall keep it sweet/ by some strange art/ Wild honey I shall eat/ when I eat my heart._ — Elinor Wylie ‘Valentine’

 

“Will you have dinner with me, yes or no?”

Elizabeth is surprised by the bold, direct inquiry but he is an earl and in this modern era, nearly anything can be acceptable so long as it's presented in fashionable decorum. Charles Grey is a silver and moonlight enigma so she supposes that covers the fashionable part but—he’s looking at her with cloud pale eyes that are both intense and playfully questioning and suddenly, she doesn’t know what to feel.

“It’s a bit too early in the evening to be speaking of dinner isn’t it?” She evades and avoids, hoping that he’ll leave her be.

“I like to have contingency plans.” He grins.

She feels mildly insulted. “Does that mean you received a resounding slap to the face when you presented this question to your first woman of choice?”

“Not yet.” He’s blocking her exit, standing right between her and the veranda doors that lead back into the ballroom. “Come on, entertain me. I’m bored.”

“I hardly think my purpose in life is to amuse you!”

“I wasn’t talking about your whole life, just this evening.” He corrects, matter-of-factly. “But I wouldn’t mind being linked to you for the rest of my earthly existence. Hell, it might even be fun. You do breathe life back into this drudgery.” He jerks a thumb towards the gilded ballroom inside, illuminated by golden chandeliers and elegant Grecian marble. Suddenly, his smile turns devious and he moves just a little _too_ close. “Would you be willing to breathe life back into me as well?” He winks. “Though I do ask that you try and keep my virtue intact.”

Elizabeth is torn between shock, amusement, embarrassment, and anger. It’s a melange of heady, irrepressible emotion and she does what she does best—she tackles it head-on. “I will do no such thing, sir.” She tilted her chin upward, determined to remain dignified and cool. “Not only is this a crude suggestion unfit for a soiree of this occasion but I have no firsthand experience with first aid or mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. You see? I don’t even have a Red Cross certificate.” 

She says this with a very posh accent, prim and proper and the second she finishes, Charles Grey can’t hold in his laughter any longer. 

“Why you insufferable man, why are you laughing?” Lizzy demands hotly, glaring at him with burning jade eyes but he can’t help it.

She’s the funniest little lady to be around and her honesty is so blatant and sincere that Grey feels he’ll have to kidnap her forever because the rest of the world just can’t have her. Already too many people know of Elizabeth Midford and Charles has never been one for sharing—not even as an adult. He’s still horribly choosy and tremendously possessive and he likes Lizzy best of all.

So the rest of the world will just have to tolerate his compulsive tendencies.

Finally, he manages to stop laughing long enough to take Lizzy by the wrist and spin her towards him until they’re chest to chest and face to face. “Oh I _like_ you, Liz Midford.”

“Don’t call me that! It’s Lady Elizabeth to you.”

“Are we really going to start arguing over your title here and now?”

“Yes.” Lizzy returns childishly with a pretty, rosy mouthed pout. “Why must you insist on making me so upset?”

“Are you deaf?”

“I do beg your pardon!”

“I already told you.” Grey says lazily, one hand coming to brush a loose golden tendril from her face. “I _like_ you. Want me to prove it?” He gives her a roguish grin, feeling somewhat annoyed when she turns her cheek.

August is cooler during the evenings and a little breeze blows by, enough to rustle Lizzy’s pale pink chiffon skirts and bring attention to her velvet maroon choker.

“Why do you even wear that thing?” Grey demands.

“It’s fashionable.”

With one swift strike, he yanks the choker off of Lizzy’s neck, exposing her pale, perfect throat—bare and smooth, almost translucent against the starlight. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Lord Grey!” Lizzy has tolerated Charles Grey’s antics for long enough and is beginning to feel more foolish by the second. “You’re not very decent at all!”

He shrugs. “I’ve never pretended otherwise. And besides, that piece of cloth doesn’t belong around your neck. You want jewelry? I’ll buy you diamonds. Diamonds, pearls, emeralds—whatever you want.”

_Oh._

“I like pretty things Lord Grey but this won’t earn you a dinner invitation—or anything else for that matter.”

He shrugs. “I don’t care. I just want you to call me sometime.”

The words are said so carelessly—so obviously—that Lizzy feels her heart skip a beat and excitement floods through her veins though she tries her best to beat it back down. His next sentence, however, does it for her.

“The war’s coming, you know.” Grey tightens his grip around her waist, as if committing her body to memory. “Germany already occupies Czechoslovakia and it won’t be long before Hitler decides to expand his march of conquest.” 

Lizzy bites her lip, hands coming to rest on Charles’s shoulders. “Father says so too but…we’ll win, won’t we?”

“We’ve already appeased Hitler in Munich.” Grey spits out bitterly though he knows why Chamberlain did what he did. England needed time—the world needed time—to mobilize for war. “But Germany hasn’t seen the likes of the British armada. We’ll take them by sea and drown those land starved madmen.”

A sliver of fear shoots down her spine. “You’re not…you’re not _enlisting_ are you?” She fights down her panic, reminding herself that if there’s one person in the whole of Europe who can fight and survive the ruthlessness of war, it’s Charles Grey—but even he is only human. “Charles—“

“I refuse to let Germany harm England.” _I refuse to let them harm **you**. _

Suddenly, she understands his directness tonight, his sudden show of unabashed interest. It’s August 17th, 1939 and the war is coming, steamrolled their way by Hitler and Stalin and Mussolini too.

Tears well up in her eyes. “Don’t tell me this is your attempt at saying goodbye.” She manages, a weak smile playing on her lips as she does her best to keep her breathing even. 

He smirks, confident and cocky and all too arrogant—but his silver eyes are soft, his hand is gentle when it comes to brush against her cheek. “Don’t be silly.” He reprimands lightly. “You think I’ll let you off this easy, Midford? I’ve got a title to reclaim and so do you.” He says this with intent, inflection sure and strong but vulnerable too.

One crystalline teardrop falls from her eye, wetting her skin and exposing everything she refuses to acknowledge at the moment.

He smiles. “Careful now, you’ve got a raindrop on your cheek.”

Lizzy shakes her head, fingers tightening around the lapels of his suit jacket. “Come back to me.” She demands, asks, begs, pleads.

“As if I could ever leave you for long.” He chuckles, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I suppose you’ll challenge me for my right to court you, hm?”

“I could wring your neck right now if I didn’t—“ she bites her tongue, wondering if these words would sound flippant now—foolish. Rushed. 

Ciel still haunts her dreams and Charles knows it. He has no love for the enterprising Earl Phantomhive (he would happily run the brat through if only Lizzy would let him) but for her sake, he keeps quiet. And it’s a rather difficult thing to do as the silence weighs on him, giving a slight hint of doubt but then, he looks into her eyes.

Bright, glimmering emerald and Grey remembers that he’s never been one to forfeit just because the odds were stacked against him. Resolved, he takes a step back and bows.

“If I may?” He says this cartoonishly, full of pomp and bustling old world circumstance—and relishes in Lizzy’s bemused, tearstained smile.

“Oh, if it’ll get you to quiet down.” She agrees, taking his hand and walking right into his arms.

The poplar trees and willows sway, creating a gentle concerto in the cool August night.

**Author's Note:**

> \- September 30, 1938: Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain capitulated to Hitler's demands and allowed Nazi Germany to annex parts of Czechoslovakia. This agreement bought the Allies a year of war preparation and mobilization. 
> 
> A/N: Um. I don’t know where this came from but I kinda like it! Maybe I’ll write a Grey/Lizzy set against WWI later ^-^ 
> 
> Feedback welcomed :)


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